


car crash hearts (cry on the couch)

by orphan_account



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Anxiety, Car Accidents, M/M, Panic, not-fic, pretty angsty, sort of, very slight blood/injury mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-24
Updated: 2015-08-24
Packaged: 2018-04-16 23:49:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4644636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"please come get me?"</p>
<p>the one where dan gets in a car accident and phil has to come pick him up and bring him home</p>
            </blockquote>





	car crash hearts (cry on the couch)

**Author's Note:**

> my first (published) fanfiction!! pls let me know how it is. note: i am from america and am too lazy to look anything up, so i wrote this as though it had taken place in america, and used whatever language i, an american, am familiar with. sorry. i honestly don't know if any of this is actually even, like, dan and phil's personalities, i needed to write something. this (aka dan's car accident and feelings) are all 100% based off of the (identical) car accident i got into a few weeks ago, which totaled my car but left me essentially injury-free, and i spent a while drifting in this weird haze of panic where i kept remembering being in the actual, physical accident. hopefully writing and posting this will help me stop feeling like that! lol well let me know if its okay, please, because i'd like to write more and reviews would make me feel like it's actually worth something. take car, enjoy, drive safely, have a good day!

“Please come get me.” 

The words catch in Phil’s phone, crumpling out through static. “Dan? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah –” Dan’s distracted now, clearly not listening – “I’ve just – hang one just a second, please I’ve just got to tell my – my – Phil? Phil, I’m fine, I’ve just been in a little – well, there was a car accident, and – I need you to come get me, please.” Phil can hear Dan’s breath through the shitty crackle of Dan’s phone, he can practically feel Dan’s fear through the phone, and there’s a moment where Phil is suddenly dizzy with worry, can’t think for whole seconds, and then “Dan, I’m on my way, just give me an address, I’m on my way, okay?” Bloodless fingers scrabbling for keys, shoes, wallet, out the door as Dan rattles off an intersection, a street address, Phil is scrambling for mental purchase, feels like everything has just vanished from his mind, it’s just Dan, stranded at the site of a car accident, Dan, who could be hurt, who could be – a million different versions of Dan’s mangled form, Phil hunched over his body, crying – 

Phil hits the gas and nearly forgets that Dan was just in a car accident, and he really ought to drive safely. 

Phil ignores traffic laws and blows two stop signs and a yield to get to Dan as fast as he can.

 

Dan is sitting inside of an ambulance as a sweet-faced paramedic swabs his forehead with alcohol, which stings a lot but, at this point he can barely comprehend anything, so there’s that. The paramedic is asking him how old he is, he’s numbly replying twenty-two, he’s twisting his hands together, still rubbing his palms over each other, scraping the blunt edge of his thumbnail over the inside creases of his fingers. He’s signing a release form, he doesn’t want to go to the hospital, he wants to go crawl into the hollow body of his car, he wants to curl into the trunk, the driver’s seat, the glove box, and forget he even exists, he doesn’t want to listen to the gentle police officer giving him back his license, telling him it wasn’t his fault, he’s lucky he’s alive, Dan feels like he’s just died he just wants to disappear into everything, he’s so, so tired suddenly and –

Phil’s puke green SUV is parked across the street, Dan sees the tail lights turn off as he shuts off the car, sees Phil’s easy lope across the closed off lanes of traffic as he weaves around a stray police car, he’s here, he’s here, he came for Dan and he’s here he’s here he’s – hugging Dan; Dan doesn’t think a hug has ever felt so nice, Phil’s arms are wrapped firmly around Dan’s shoulders, his face is pressed into Dan’s neck, he’s mumbling, “I’m so glad you’re okay, are you okay, are you okay” into the soft skin there and Dan feels overwhelmingly like crying, he can almost feel the ache of sobs in his belly, in his throat, almost congealing into tears but not quite, as he works his body into the proper response, arms around Phil, “I’m okay, I’m okay, I swear.” 

Phil shepherds Dan over to the gentle police officer, his kind old face as he inspects the cars, Phil is subtly swiping at the corners of his eyes and Dan can’t tell if he’s going to laugh or scream. Phil is wrapping his arm over Dan’s shoulder as he murmurs along with the cop, “Yeah, I’m so glad he’s alright… yeah, do you have his license, his registration? … Who will tow the car, when can we go look at it, do you have any insurance information?” The officer is handing more papers over to Phil, explaining what’s already happened, and suddenly Phil is thanking him for all of his help, and Dan mutters his agreement, his cheeks pulling back to smile in a plasticy, skeletal grin. 

“Dan, this officer just said the tow trucks will be here in a few, we can go wait in my car, okay? Do you have all your stuff? Where are the car keys?” Dan does not know where the car keys are. Dan is maneuvered to the car, Phil is going over to the accident, his old converse crunching through broken shards of glass, checking Dan’s car for the car keys, the house keys, Dan’s phone chargers. Phil is back in the car, making sure Dan’s seat belt is on, saying, the police are leaving now, the tow trucks are here, we’re good to go, okay? We’ll be home in fifteen minutes, Dan, Dan are you listening to me?” 

Dan snaps back into reality, he knows what’s going on, he swears he does, Phil is staring at him, Dan jerks his head in a semblance of a nod, “Yeah, sure, thanks Phil, what do you want to eat for dinner? I was thinking maybe some soup?” His own stream of consciousness fills the silent worry of the car ride home, hides Dan’s furtive glances in the side mirrors to see who is driving behind them, he can’t stop twisting his hands together as he talks, he can’t stop trembling at the feeling of Phil braking too quickly, turning too fast, he is so exhausted, he just wants to be home. 

 

Phil has made sure Dan took a shower, changed into clean clothes, and eaten. Dan has told him what happened, to the best of his ability. Phil can’t stop feeling like he’s been shaken up, his insides are tangled in distress, Dan is still crossing and uncrossing fingers, nervously rubbing his wrists, the backs of his hands. Phil makes Dan drink tea. Phil hugs Dan again, even though Dan says he’s fine, he swears. Phil climbs into bed next to Dan and kisses Dan on the cheek and tries not to imagine Dan’s wild eyes as he tried to escape his now totaled car. Phil doesn’t want to think about that. Phil doesn’t want to know, not really. Dan is fast asleep, Dan is okay, and he’s totally fine, and his even breath lulls Phil into an uneasy rest. 

 

Dan hates not having a car, he feels trapped, he is cornered into his own home, and every time Phil offers his own, Dan has to say no, because climbing into cars makes his chest feel hollow, makes him think off the weightless swerve across the intersection, the smoke on the asphalt, the doors unable to open, constantly caged into his own fear, Dan is jittery, he is suspended in his panic half the time, Phil is untangling his hands from Phil’s sweater, unwrapping Dan’s hands from each other when he’s thinking too much, brewing endless tea, and smoothing back sweaty nightmare hair, perpetually reassuring Dan it’s okay, he suffered a trauma, it’s alright to still be upset about it, it’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine, and Dan is crawling onto Phil’s lap so Phil can rub circles on Dan’s back, place the kindest of kisses on the top of Dan’s head, the bridge of his nose, each of his knuckles, worn red from Dan’s ceaseless worry.

Phil is calling the insurance company, driving Dan to work even when Dan does not want to get into the car, or leave the house, always knowing when Dan is upset before Dan even is upset, somehow understanding Dan’s blind panic over the mundane – where did his favorite mug go, why is his favorite backpack in the shower, his room is too warm, his skin is too tight all the time, and Phil is always smoothing down the flyaway worries, always knowing where Dan is and where he’ll be ten minutes from now.


End file.
